


the coming of spring

by lutzaussi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Figure Skater Kakashi, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutzaussi/pseuds/lutzaussi
Summary: Life for Iruka around Valentine's day is, for lack of a better word, interesting. This year more so than other years.





	

The shop is cool and dark in the mornings, empty and quiet when Iruka arrives to flick the lights on and start the radio. There’s never really much to be done, mornings, because Kadie who has the afternoons and closing during the week always restocks before she leaves, straightens everything up.

He straightens up anyway, cleans off the glass of the front door and sweeps under the work tables in the back, where stray bits of ribbon and wrapping paper hide. Iruka relishes the quiet, because it is a week until Valentine’s Day, and as soon as he letters and sets out the sandwich board he knows the shop is going to be mobbed.

Along those lines, as soon as he does open—unlock the door, pull back the curtains, and set out the board—he sets up to stuff a half dozen more hearts, the big ones that people have been buying more than the others.

\--

By noon he’s sold over a dozen chocolate-filled hearts and nearly two dozen chocolate roses and his face hurts from smiling. The noon to about two-thirty time is usually pretty empty, and it is when he takes lunch, because he’s working all day and three is when the after-work rush usually starts.

Though he doesn’t really have time for lunch. There’s more heart-boxes that need to be packed and the snow that has threatened to fall all day has finally started. He moves the sandwich board under the gold fabric awning, hopes the snow won’t melt and drip through.

\--

Half an hour before closing a pair of men dash into the shop, the bell tinkling behind them. Iruka is in the middle of checking inventory and he internally sighs, slowly scoots down off the step-ladder and asks, “Can I help you two?”

“No—“ the first man is cut off by the second, who meets Iruka’s eyes with his own dark, dark blue ones and a sure smile, says, “He needs help, Iruka.” And now that he is not hidden behind a sign, Iruka recognizes the man.

“Kakashi—“ the man sputters, but Iruka smiles and eyes Kakashi, whose hair has once again been bleached a stunning silver under his hat. He seems to understand Iruka’s inquiring look, as he explains, “First Valentine’s day.”

“Mm,” Iruka nods, looks with sparkling eyes at the other man, who he has never met and who has a rather horrid bowl cut, “were you thinking of anything in particular?”

He ends up having to go through the whole thing (do they like chocolate? Caramel? What type of chocolate? White? Milk? Dark? Filled chocolates? Flavored chocolates?) with the man, but he does successfully choose enough chocolates for Iruka to fill a heart-shaped box with. Within ten minutes, they are gone.

\--

The text comes five minutes after he has the shop closed and is in the middle of counting out the cash register.

 **Dog-man** : _U up for dinner?_

Iruka feels his heart fluttering, sends back, _only if we never return to the sushi bar_. That place held only sadness and terrible drunks when they had visited two weeks before.

 **Dog-man** : _fucking deal, how’s’bout Saturday?_

Saturday. Known to everyone with a calendar as the 14th of February: Valentine’s day. Iruka wonders what Kakashi is planning, and remains mystified as he heads home.

\--

His hair is getting long, and he’s in the middle of a paper when Anko appears and starts braiding it, occasionally burying her entire face in it because he had just showered and his conditioner smells like strawberries.

“So,” he begins, because he actually wants to think before words come tumbling out of his mouth. “I have a date.”

“Hm?” She tugs his hair and he obediently sits up as she continues.

“Valentine’s day.”

“Hatake?” her voice is knowing and somewhat devilish as she finishes French-braiding the left side of his head and starts on the right.

Iruka grunts in affirmation. He finishes the last grammar check and submits it, leans back into Anko as she ties off the second braid. “You know, ‘ruka,” she says, smoothing the wispy hairs that she wasn’t able to capture away from his face, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he actually genuinely likes you.”

\--

He and Kakashi have a history. Not a bad history, not at _all_ , but a history nonetheless.

They met as undergrads at a party in Anko’s flat. Which, given how many people came to the parties that she had, was not surprising. Iruka knew of at least three married couples who had met at those parties.

Their relationship had mostly consisted of Kakashi getting drunk and sleeping on the floor of Iruka’s room for five weeks, until he’d found Iruka in the library studying and insisted on buying him coffee as some sort of thank you.

It is at the point where they are dating, everyone knows they’re dating, but they aren’t actually “””dating”””. At least, Iruka is hesitantly sure that they aren’t. Four years of it has made him more than a little unsure.

\--

The next day no less than two people he knows come in to buy chocolates, and the day after that five. He’s only slightly concerned when Suzume, another education student, buys three pounds worth of chocolate and tells him, deadpan, “I’m going to eat all of this tonight.”

\--

The black-haired bowl-cut man comes in again for half a dozen of the chocolate roses and he looks like the largest bundle of nerves that Iruka has ever seen. He leaves in better spirits and Iruka takes the opportunity to attach a name to a face.

Gai—and Kakashi’s former roommate who he has never met but has heard stories about. And, Iruka has heard, is being considered for the track team for the upcoming Olympics in Tokyo.

The other man seems to have a better idea of who Iruka is, but doesn’t say anything other than thanking him profusely for his help, with a somewhat knowing smile on his face.

\--

Anko has taken to playing No Scrubs every time Kakashi is brought up in conversation and every time he texts Iruka. It isn’t annoying because Iruka loves the song, but he isn’t sure if it means that Anko thinks Kakashi is a scrub.

She’s isn’t giving him any answers for that, anyway, like the absolute shitweasel she is.

Iruka has classes with her every morning, and on Friday she drags him on a detour. To the café with the good lattes, around the track complex, and past the ice skating rink. And Kakashi is there practicing every morning, without fail.

Iruka could watch him skate for hours.

\--

Okay, maybe Iruka’s a little thirsty but—Hatake Kakashi is a two-time Grand Prix medalist and (so far) a one-time World’s champion and he’s going to be in the Olympics. The man is fucking built and for some reason he’s interested in a secondary-education student who works part time at a chocolate shop and spends more time than is probably necessary on his hair.

Iruka is, in a word, _fucked_.

\--

He has the shop Saturday morning until noon, but the two hours that he is there for are hectic and busier than the past week combined. He’s there with Kadie, though, who likes to get more hours if only to improve her Japanese, and she is manning the floor and cash register while he puts together more boxes and roses.

Iruka leaves as soon as Mitsuko appears, looking rather dashing in her usual dress and trench combo. He has enough time to eat, take a shower, let Anko braid his hair and relax, and finally get dressed for his date.

\--

Kakashi comes to pick him up, which is nice and somewhat unexpected. Anko cranks up the TLC when Iruka opens the door and lets him in, slides down further in the nest that she has made on the couch, and growls at Iruka when he pats her head goodbye. The television immediately is turned back on to the horror movie she was getting through.

They make it halfway down the block, headed toward (Iruka is guessing at this point) the American-style pub with the really good cheese and pretzels before Iruka’s phone dings at him. He digs it out of his pocket, if only to see if it is Anko and, if it is, shut it completely off for the evening. It _is_ Anko to absolutely no one’s surprise (even Kakashi’s, who just snorts).

The phone is turned off, and Iruka does not complain when Kakashi takes his hand.

\--

They don’t even get a little drunk by the time they leave the pub, full of greasy food and floating even as they hold hands and try to puzzle the bus schedule out. There is something, Iruka thinks, there is something about Kakashi that is magnetic, despite the fact that the man has very few friends. He allows himself to be led along, to a crepe shop that is still open.

\--

Oh, Iruka thinks, when he’s pressed up against the door of Kakashi’s apartment, having his breath kissed out of him and his legs eased apart by Kakashi’s, maybe he does like me.

\--

He has, in total, 34 texts from Anko when he turns his phone back on the next morning. Iruka sends off a quick @ _kakashi’s don’t call cops_ to Anko (whose last text was mangled from alcohol and he guessed was supposed to read ‘I’m going to bed, if you don’t contact me in the morning the cops will be called’). He has enough faith in her sleeping until at least noon to leave his phone on and not worry about her spamming him again.

Kakashi is humming and making pancakes in only his briefs, and those are distractingly low on his hips. Iruka finds himself staring, something like a smile curving his lips when he does stand and make his way around the small table so he can curl his hands around the taller man’s hips, rest his chin on Kakashi’s shoulder.

\--

They have another go before eating, and Kakashi looks extremely satisfied with himself as he eats his pancakes. Iruka can’t exactly blame him.

\--

The rest of the day is very— _domestic_. They go shopping because there is no more food in Kakashi’s loft and despite being a world-famous skater the man is not very good at money management. Or knowing where expiration dates on food packages are.

Anko texts him twice in that time. _Everything go well??_

With, of course, a whole row of water droplet emojis a minute later.

Iruka considers shutting his phone back off. He doesn't deign reply.

\--

Iruka does not want to think about the fact that it is Sunday and he still has one assignment he needs to submit before midnight, because Kakashi has an arm around him and is chuckling at something he said. He does need to though, because that assignment is roughly half his grade.

Kakashi doesn’t complain at that, just takes Iruka’s hand and walks him home.

It isn’t even very late when they make it to the apartment building, and Iruka pauses at the doorway, turns to consider Kakashi.

The other man has a soft, fond smile on his face, and he takes Iruka’s face between his hands, kisses him almost reverently before heading off to catch another bus.

And Iruka realizes that Kakashi definitely, definitely likes him.

\--

Anko is in the middle of making Indian paneer curry and naan when Iruka gets inside and takes a minute, leaning against the inside of the front door, to try and get his emotions in check.

She doesn’t look terribly hungover when he manages to get his shoes off and walk into the kitchen. If anything, she just looks like she hasn’t slept for a few days.

“Good date?” Anko asks, hovering over the curry as it cooks.

Iruka’s face is red, but he nods, says, “Good date.”

\--

He gets the paper done—deadline induced bullshit has always been his strong point, and it was mostly done anyway—and takes a shower before finding Anko asleep (again) and a steaming cup of coffee in the kitchen waiting for him next to a small bag full of individually wrapped candies and chocolates. The smile on his face is fond as he takes the cup and shuts himself in his room.

Twelve pages into his book (which, while it is for the mandatory literature class, is quite good) his phone pings and he automatically grabs it, eyes still focused on the page.

**Dog-man:** _u free for dinner tomorrow?_

\--

It’s past midnight and soaring very quickly toward one when he’s lying in his bed, in the dark, eyes wide.

Oh, he realizes, when he turns to look at the moon coming out from behind the snow-filled clouds and wraps his blankets a little tighter around his shoulders, I love him.


End file.
